


Absolute Fool

by CorsetJinx



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Save Solaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9626948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: There are forces in the world that are unkind to any Undead. Unfortunately, Lost Izalith seems to contain some of the worst.





	

"You." The word echoes roughly inside the helmet of the one above him, low and angry and perhaps worried most of all. " _You_ have got to be the most ridiculous, simple-minded, stupid man I've ever met."

Solaire stays limp as his friend hauls him away from the encroaching magma, heedless of the danger to themselves as they move back towards solid ground. He'd move if he could - he wants to, wants to apologize for being a burden, a fool to have believed he could brave the dangers of Lost Izalith alone.

The heat is nothing short of stifling. It clouds his head, makes drawing breath on ordeal, but he forces himself to do it anyway. His body still aches from the battle against the Centipede but he can't get his free arm to reach for his Estus flask.

His friend stops dragging him once they're safely away from the lava, easing him back onto the blackened stone. He feels their hands on his limbs, testing for broken bones.

"Maniac." They mutter to themselves, still heat. "Charging in like that."

Under his helm, Solaire smiles. It stretches the withered skin of his face unpleasantly, but that discomfort is reduced to nothing when the other Undead guides his head up and offers him their flask.

"Drink. I've got enough for the two of us." It's a terse order but he's not offended. It takes a bit for him to be able to lift his helmet enough to drink - then his dear friend shows their kindness by steadying his hand, making sure he doesn't spill the ichor all over himself when the shakes come.

He gulps the estus, feels the warmth spread throughout his body to ease the pain and thinks, not for the first time, that it's like imbibing sunlight.

"Thank you, my friend." He croaks, attempting to pass the flask back.

"Drink another. I don't trust you to be able to move properly just yet." His friend shifted, supporting his head against their lap. In the murky gloom of Izalith's fires he thought the Undead's helm took on a more sinister appearance. Yet the hands on his person are careful, wary of hurting him in spite of their aggravation.

"Don't you - "

"Solaire," they grunt, "drink. Don't make me feed it to you myself."

He smiles again before he can really help it, sinking back and taking another swig of the estus. The relief he feels is nearly heavenly, strength _r_ eturning to his limbs faster as the healing liquid works through him. It's a much stronger dose than his own, he thinks.

"I suppose this means you really are in love with me." He chuckles, watching his friend's helm swing to look at him in askance. He elaborates, sensing the Undead's confusion. "You've helped me so often I would almost think you wish to be my knight in shining armor. And despite threatening to toss me to the magma - you haven't."

They stare down at him, helmet rendering their face and expression unreadable to him. He's struck with the sudden urge to push it off, to see what his dear friend looks like beneath - be it hollowing or flush with humanity.

A sigh winds its way out of the helmet's visor, soft and almost inaudible. He can very easily picture his friend rolling their eyes, if they had any.

"Don't tempt my hand. I knew Izalith would welcome no outsider, yet I hardly expected this."

"I would do it all over again, if it brought you to my side." Solaire smiles, reaching up to press the flask into their free hand. Their fingers meet and the contact sends a thrill through him.

" _That_ is precisely what worries me, you fool."


End file.
